Dark Fall: The Journal
by FFg64 the Vicious
Summary: Six Occupants of a hotel disappeared in the early 1900's without a trace. As luck would have it, my half brother, an architect, has been hired to draft a plan to reopen this hotel. It all starts with a dream...
1. Darkfall: Dream and Clock

_**Darkfall: The Journal**_

Standing alone, in a room, with the sound of a clock ticking away at my very being.

_I have to get out of here..._

Rushing to the door, I place my hand on the key that is already placed in the keyhole. As it turns, with a snap, it breaks.

"_No..!"_ Clawing at the door, my nails dig deep into the cherry wood.

"Calm down. Find the clock..." Someone-Or something, tells me from inside my thoughts. I am able to trace the ticking to a "safe" located between two windows. This safe not only had a key hole-with the key not in sight, but also some sort of number combination in Roman numerals. A moment of curiosity strikes me. I survey the room. An old time radio sits on a bookshelf, filling the room with white noise. The only other thing that sticks out is a desk with several letters and photographs. I pick the letter up...

_"Arthur,_

_This room is not safe. I had thoughts to store the lyrics here, away from the prying eyes of the guests. No one must know of what seethes deep beneath us. It is growing in strength, every bone of my being id telling me that it is close to freeing itself. The entrapment has ended the feeding is about to begin. We must work fast, our progress has been slow but persistent. It knows what we plan, it watches me each god sent evening. Watches me from the dark corners of this room. It hides in the darkness. I fear it nay not need to cloak itself for much longer. _

_It whispers to me throughout my waking and sleeping. My mind is strong, it will not tempt me so easily. I will not join those that have already fallen for its soothing promises. They are false, and we must treat them as such. What plans have you for new hiding places? Currently they lyrics are stores here, but as I have stated, I wish to move them as soon as possible. You may move them yourself if you find a more secure location. I trust you remember the sequence... if not, seek the old art catalogue. Also, you will need the key._

_I must descend to the public bar, hence this note. It worries me that Edith now asks so many questions. It must seem to her, and the guests, that we behave most oddly, creeping around the hallways after darkness falls. I feel I am descending to an inquisition._

_The idiots. If only they knew of the work and the trials we must face. It makes me ill thinking about it. A good strong brandy will reinforce my heart and focus my will. I will be in the bar till late._

_George."_

Following the signature was a symbol shaped like a crosshair.

"What an odd symbol...Ow!" tracing my finger over the symbol, it feels as though it bites me. "Bloody..." Throwing the paper down, the other objects on the desk catch my eye. Filed in a small cubbyhole, a small business card says "Quality Family Run Hotel: The Station Hotel, with train services to London Station Road, Dowerton, 243"

"Could this be where I am?" Amongst the ink pots, several photographs are slipped into two drawers.

"One of a portrait of Elizabeth, one of a shed, someone's shadow on a stair-useless. I need out have here."

"I wonder what is outside...?" I open the right window. A cold breeze fills the room. It seems I am in some sort of train station. Perhaps a hotel. The rusted rail tracks creak and the wind whistles as if calling lost souls to a gathering. Glancing towards the other windowsill, something catches me eye.

"I don't believe it..." Sitting on the ledge is the key. Closing this window, I make my way to its twin. "Too easy, has to be a catch..." Half expecting the window to be locked, and if it is I am willing to be reduced to breaking the glass, it opens with a small tug. I take the key, walking to the door; I see it does not fit.

"Heh, I knew it..." The safe. Of course, the key fits perfectly in the safe, but the number puzzle lays laughing at me. I trace the picture of the knight on a horse, appears to be of medieval era, which is etched on the safe. Standing and taking a seat on the bed, dust flies up around me. I sigh, and for the first time I notice a lantern placed by the bed. Taking it, I hope it pervades enough light...and my hopes come true.

"Yeah, this will give enough light to see...a monster before it bites my face off...uh, ok, got to stop scaring myself...Whoa!" Slipping off the bed, not on purpose, my hand landing on something under the bed.

"A book...'Medieval Prints for the Home'" Opening it, I leaf through the pages. "Full of drawings, medieval era ones. Hey...." My eyes rest on the picture of the medieval knight, with the number 253. "Of course." I kneel before the safe again, with a click the key is slipped in, and I cycle through the roman number code. "II.....V...III..Click..." The "books" swings out, nearly hitting my head, revealing a hidden container and namely-The clock. A note is tucked into the minute hand, but not for long, as I take it and open it to read it.

"_What is this?!"_

"_Congratulations. You have won at my little game._

_P.S. Your brother Peter is already mine."_

"Ahhh!" Screaming at the top of my voice, I nearly fall to the floor. The floor of my bedroom. The Train station is no more.

"All dream...it was a dream...._right?"_


	2. Darkfall: Message and Search

No matter what anyone tells you, trying to balance an artist's panel, groceries, a leather portfolio, and open the door with a set of keys is not easy.

"Forgot the mail..." Dropping my load on an armchair by the door, I push the play button to hear my missed phone messages. "I hope it's a hot guy that wants a date." Alas, it is not, even from my front porch I can tell who it is.

"_Message one...If you're there, pick up! It's me, your brother_."

"Yeah, thanks, I never would have guessed." Peter, Peter Crowhurst, my half brother really, more than likely working on some big shot architect redesign of an old historical landmark. Coming back in, I kick the door shut with a thud whilst sorting through the mail.

"_Egh, I was hoping you were going to be in. I needed you to be in. I know what you're thinking, 'He would have only rung if something was wrong', well something is wrong, very wrong... I am still in Dorset; I am not the only one here. There's two students from Weymouth University - Polly and Nigel, ghost hunters, would you believe. I didn't believe, but I do now." _I stop leafing through the mail. Pete has never been one to suggest ghosts,in fact often making me the blunt end many of a joke for following a degree in demonology. He's the one who persuaded me to take an honor's course in Fine Art and Design in order to receive a "real job".

"_I need you to leave now! I need you to come here. I would go to police, but, they would just laugh in my face." _

"What makes you think I won't just laugh in your face...?"

"_Ghost hunters, heh. I think whatever they have been hunting has found them, I think it has found me too... Please help...You were always good with things like this. If you leave now, you can catch the late train from Paddington to Weymouth. From there, take a cab, come to Dowerton station. It's abandoned. _

"Abandoned? Why in Hell would I want to go there?"

"_I'll be waiting. I really need your help on this... The sooner you can get here, the better. This place is really beginning to freak me out. I tried to find Polly and Nigel earlier, but I couldn't find them anywhere. They wouldn't just leave. This all started a few days ago, it was when-...I can hear it... It's right outside the door...whispering... its whispering my name.... it knows my name...I've got to open the door... I've got to open the door..." _Footsteps, a sound of a door opening, a wind like sound, than the sound of the phone falling onto a hard floor.

"Pete?" Reaching for a pen, I hastily press the reply button on the machine.

"_You have no messages..." _

"What?" Pressing it again, I receive the same answer. "Damn machine." Taking a seat at my computer, I type up an email to send to his wife, otherwise known as his PDA.

"_Subject: Message_

_Hey Pete, What's up with you? April Fool's Day has long gone you know! What is this all about?! You sound like you've either on acid, or lost your mind. Or both. There is no such thing as ghosts, as well as you know. I think you have been in the countryside too long. The clean air is has gone to your head..." _I stop to think for a moment. _"Even so, you really have me worried. Give me a call as soon as you get this."_ After ten minutes, I find myself restless. Checking my email, I see he hasn't replied yet. Hastily calling his mobile, I find that it is dead. I resort to calling his office.

"Richard speaking, how can I help?"

"Yeah, this is Ashley, have you spoken to Pete lately?"

"Not lately, want me to try to patch you to him?"

"Please." After a few moments, Vickey, Pete's coworker, comes on the line.

"I'm sorry, but Pete is no available right now. Can I help you?"

"Vicky? Have you spoken to Pete lately?"

"No, shall I leave a memo to him for you?"

"No...But could you tell me what his latest project is?"

"Sure. He was hired by the Crabtree family to draw a draft of an abandoned train station in Dorset: I have him down to be returning in two days. Oh, this train station also had a hotel and restaurant. I believe the owners, the Crabtree family, are hoping to reopen it as a tourist attraction for early nineties train lovers. That's all I know."

"Thanks...tell me if you can raise him, ok?"

"Sure."

"Maybe I can try his mobile. 011...." Rattling off Pete's number, I am quickly put the receiver to my ear, just in time to hear the end of his voice mail. Sighing, I place the phone back into the charger. I glace to the monitor, I start a new message.

"_Subject: RE: Message  
Hmm, could be tricky. Your mobile is dead. Very dead in fact. I've given the office a call; neither Richard nor Vicky can raise you either. O.k., now I am REALLY worried. You are probably fine, but it doesn't hurt to check." _I pause, and then read out loud to myself as I type it.

"_I've always wanted to see the West Country anyway..."_


End file.
